Absenteeism Has Its Merits
by Jubalii
Summary: Yokoi's absent from class, which means that Seki's plans have to change somewhat. When you have time to yourself, you also have time to think.
"Once again, it looks like we have a few people out with the flu." The homeroom teacher glanced quickly down at his notes, lips pursed in slight annoyance. "Let me remind everyone that during these long winter months, personal hygiene and flu-avoidance techniques are critical. Please consider yourself and others, and stay careful." He cleared his throat, tossing the papers carelessly onto the desk as he picked up his textbook. "With that being said, let's go ahead and turn to page 19, where you can see a rendition of the—"

Seki sighed, slumping down in his seat and rolling his shoulders back as he glanced almost forlornly at the empty seat to his right. His nose wrinkled as he glared at the desk's surface, empty of the usual notes and open textbook that scattered the surface in neat disorder. The teacher's voice became a noisy, yet ignorable drone in the back of his mind, the same as always. In front of him, Maeda scratched the back of his neck, rubbing his shoulder while he was at it before hunching down and running a hand absently through his hair. All the while, the clock ticked mercilessly, counting down second by second the long hours until the school day was done.

His hand reached automatically for his book satchel, where he knew that the days' worth of toys was waiting for him. There were so many things to do, to experiment with, to create from his imagination! He'd decided early on, as far back as elementary school, that if he was forced to attend classes—boring, useless things that cut into his personal time—he would spend them how _he_ wanted to. Studying? Ridiculous. Note-taking? Laughable. There were only so many hours in a day, and they needed to be filled with important things that couldn't wait. He'd learn a lot more by excavating his own desk or reading up on acupuncture than he ever would from mathematics and social studies. Still….

He looked over at the empty desk again. He was too relaxed now, without the usual stern glare boring into the side of his head. Playing with his toys didn't even seem worth it if Yokoi wasn't there to scold him with her sharp, nagging whispers. His mouth twitched in an involuntary grin as he considered the fact that the last time she was absent, a few semesters ago, he hadn't even cared that she was gone. But now he'd grown used to her complaints about his 'childish games' and unusual antics, despite how invested she always ended up being.

Rummaging inside the satchel, his hand closed around a familiar plastic fist and he hesitated. He'd even brought the robot family, in preparation for a test later that day. He'd known that the sight of the robot family also taking the exam would have made her simultaneously happy and peeved. An idea popped into his head, floating among the usual rabble of ideas and designs that stayed at the forefront of his mind. Quickly, he dug deeper into his bag and finally found the items he was looking for. Setting them up only took another few minutes, and then he sat back and smiled at his work.

His desk had become the classroom; a sheet of paper taped precariously to Maeda's back served as the chalkboard. His Jenga blocks made perfect desks for the students—most of them were paper cutouts as well. The adventurous brown bear that had once so fearlessly scaled Maeda's shirt was wearing a tiny pair of glasses, a small book in its paw as it taught the paper cutouts about natural history. In the back corner, the robot parents were seated next to each other; Dad stared out the window in sheer boredom, but Mom was studious and kept her attention focused on the front of the classroom. She was writing notes in a little notebook, and it was clear to see that she was taking her classes seriously. Most likely, she was worried about the exam coming up later.

There was nothing of interest out the imaginary window, it seemed. Robot dad wasn't finding anything to look at, and was becoming bored again. Seki looked out his own window, where a stormy winter sky made the schoolyard seem gray and dull. Muffling another sigh, he turned his attention back to the robot's classroom. Robot dad was finding robot mom far more interesting than the window, and even seemed to be trying to get robot mom to look his way with furtive movements. Sadly, she wasn't even glancing in his direction. Her plastic eyes were taking in the teacher's every move, her little robot hand moving effortlessly across the page as she scribbled her notes.

Seki's eyes flitted to the pocket watch that served as the desk-school's wall clock. He choked back a gasp; robot dad was running out of time! The class would be over soon, and then it would be time for lunch; robot mom would join her friends and his efforts to make her look at him would be in vain! Teeth grinding with determination, he coerced robot dad to dig around in the robot-sized book satchel hanging from the corner of the Jenga block. Looking back, he grinned as he saw robot mom's head move; she was looking down at her notes, which meant that she'd be able to see movement from her peripherals. Now was the robot dad's chance!

Moving swiftly, robot dad found a small bonsai tree in his satchel and pulled it out, along with a small set of shears. Quickly, robot dad began to shape the bonsai into an adorable little bunny rabbit. Seki couldn't help the grin on his face as the robot mom noticed, stared a moment, and then began to try her best to grab the robot dad's attentions, arm waving frantically. Now the tables were turned! The robot dad ignored her with the skill of a craftsman at work, giving her a rather spiteful, petty rendition of her own previous behavior. It didn't seem to matter that at the time, she had no idea that she had been ignoring him.

Finally, robot dad acknowledged her, if only to stop her from grabbing the shears from his hand. It didn't matter much if she sabotaged him now, anyway. Robot dad had what he wanted—robot mom's full and undivided attention. It was the way it should be; robot mom would most definitely give robot dad the audience he needed, and even go so far as to give a few of the proje— _bonsai plants_ proper respect. After all, he thought as he helped robot dad fix the edge of one rabbit ear, this robot probably had a mother that discouraged creative outlets in school, and a little sister that had long stopped caring about the complexity and ingenuity of his projects. Robot dad needed someone new in his life, if for nothing more than a fresh perspective.

Ah, robot mom had become angry with the loud sound of robot dad's bonsai shears and was ignoring him again, it seemed. Seki shrugged and helped robot dad pack away the bonsai plant while the white bear—the music teacher—came in and the brown bear left, adjusting his glasses. It was time for a new game, anyway; robot mom had already turned her attention back to the board, where the music teacher was beginning to discuss arpeggios. Seki tapped his forehead thoughtfully, robot dad mimicking his actions. What next?

 _Ding dong, ding dong_ …. He glanced up in alarm as a chorus of loud chatter burst from his classmates. It was lunchtime already? He reluctantly brushed off his desk and returned the things to his satchel as he waited for his friends to push their desks over to his. He glanced again at the empty seat next to him, and then at Yokoi's two close friends sitting together by themselves on the other side of the room, choosing a different spot since their friend wasn't present. He scratched his head in frustration; even lunchtime had lost its appeal when there wasn't someone to quietly whimper as he decimated the heads of cute little food animals. He only went through the trouble of making those elaborate bento boxes because he knew it irritated her!

All at once, the alarming realization ran through him: he'd do anything, even wake up early in the morning to craft a spectacular lunch, if it meant that she was noticing him. He felt the blood rush from his face and tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to swallow the terrified lump in his throat. Did this mean… did this mean he was becoming dependent on his desk neighbor? _What are you going to do when we switch desks?!_ She'd asked him that once, when she saw he'd been modifying his desk and chair to meet his standards, which naturally included trap doors and secret compartments. But now he dreaded the thought for another reason entirely—when they switched desks, she would most likely be moved to another seat and… then what?

His forehead wrinkled as he thought, only half-answering the questions thrown his way by his friends as they unpacked their lunches. Of course they couldn't stay that way forever, with her always around to thwart his games, or alternately join them. He had to admit that he always had a good time when she played with him instead of against him, though at first he hadn't liked her interference. What would he do if she was moved up to the front of the class?

His shoulders slumped and he poked halfheartedly at his meal, hating the fact that he missed the sound of alarmed squeaks and whispered threats that followed his main course.

* * *

"Hey Rumi! Are you feeling better now?" Tomoka greeted her friend as she walked through the classroom door. Yokoi smiled and nodded, waiting for her to come up to the desk before speaking.

"Yes, I'm feeling much better, though I hate that I missed three whole days," she said with a hint of regret. "I have to remember to thank Gotou-san for bringing me the handouts and homework assignments that I missed."

"Yeah, she's a really nice girl, isn't she? I see you talking to her during art class sometimes, when you're not staring down…." she trailed off, a sly grin etched on her face. Yokoi felt her cheeks burn and hunkered down at her desk, wishing she could bury her face in her arms.

"It's not like that," she mumbled, silently demanding the blush to go away. She'd tried explaining before to her friends about Seki's misadventures, but she could tell they didn't believe her. Tomoka even went so far as to accuse her of making excuses just to stare at him, as though she were enamored with him or something! She shook her head for extra measure, and was grateful when the bell rang before Tomoka could accost her with any more needless questions. _Gotou-san_ _ **is**_ _a nice girl; plus, she's the only one that believes me_ , Yokoi thought to herself, glowing as she glanced over towards the back of the girl's head. _What a good friend_.

As the homeroom teacher began to speak about the morning's assignments, she felt eyes on her. Looking over, she was confused as she saw Seki doing his usual morning pre-class routine of staring at the back of Maeda's head, his eyes distant. _I bet he didn't miss me at all,_ she grumbled. _Had three free days to enjoy himself without someone begging him to be responsible for once._ She all but slammed her notebook on the desk, fuming about the boy's imagined freedom as she looked over the notes she'd copied while sick.

She happened to miss Seki's subtle sideways glances, hand sneaking towards the zipper of his satchel as he smiled, wondering what he would interest her in today.

* * *

 **Afterword:** I fell in love with this series after watching the sub of it, then the dub, then going to read the manga in the span of less than a week, maybe? Then I decided I needed to write at least ONE story for it, haha. I loved the instant chemistry I felt between the two (Middle schoolers? High schoolers? *shrug*), which is weird because one never talks and one hardly talks outside of her head since they're in class. It's done more through the body language and scenarios, which I adore.

It was a lot of fun to write Seki's thoughts, since I have the headcanon that he comes up with all these bigger and bigger schemes during class just to keep her attention: going from dominoes to driving school, to mountain climbing and even bringing CATS to the classroom.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot!


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